


For The Axe

by Berrybanana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst without a happy ending, Bad Poetry, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrybanana/pseuds/Berrybanana
Summary: "If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake just swing it."Set right after the events of the first Avengers film, just after Loki's rather sad quote in Thor 2.Odin believes Loki's crimes to be a little too high to let him off and isn't stupid enough to think the cunning Loki will remain trapped in the dungeons for long.Now Loki will pay the highest of prices for putting trust in those around him.NO SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR :D





	For The Axe

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I was scrolling through my old notes and guess what I found?  
> Be warned, this is from my tired and emotional brain after staying up to watch Thor 2 nearly two years ago and I haven't really edited it much since.  
> Be prepared for unusual shifts in POV and breaks in rhyme and rhythm <3

You acted the prankster, a joker,

Playing tricks on the court,

They never saw the pain behind your smile,

Never heard the silent cries beneath the laughs,

 

Oh you acted the trickster, but truly you were a Hero, a King.

Choosing to risk your life over the most important of things;

The sunrise over the kingdom,

The smile on your brother's face,

The safety of your family,

The safety of their race.

 

For you knew you were different, different from the rest,

Your magical prowess was surely the best,

You'd been shunned, shamed, and forgotten for the simplest of things,

When your brother, your wild brother, he lived like a king.

 

Then one day you finally found out.

You touched the ice casket and your skin turned blue.

It had all been a lie...

Were you truly you?

 

You made many mistakes and hurt all that you loved.

You almost killed your brother and those he's thinking of.

You put yourself into exile and decided to fight for nobody.

But that quickly changed when THEY found your broken body...

 

 

Beaten, bruised, pale, wan skin.

Ribs showing from where you'd been starved so thin.

Forced to work, tortured for information,

What do you have to bargain with?

Nothing.

You‘re filled with frustration.

 

Your mother and brother are your priority, despite their lies.

Your ‘father’, however, you truly despise.

 

So what to bargain?

What to gain?

Perhaps that Midgard plain...

The one your brother is so fond of?

Will that earn back his trust, his affection?

 

You'd have to act a traitor, spread so much pain,

Give it all up to win this dark game.

Perhaps that Jane girl... Could she be one of your many new pawns?

Thor, Nick, and all who came to their aid would join the game board.

You played Chess, not Poker, Chess the game of wits and Logic.

Your moves would have to be precise, calculated, or all would be for nothing.

 

 / / / / /

 

He constructed a plan, he played his part perfectly.

The army was destroyed with all certainty.

Now Midgard was safe and aware of the threats.

He knew he would be charged with manslaughter, but in his defence most had been accidents.

Flying pieces of shrapnel from explosions had killed more than he’d cared to count.

He’d spared Thor’s little friends Cap and Tony more times than he wanted to recount.

 

He had saved his homeland, Midgard too.

All at the price of his brother's trust- he knew the day Odin stole him all would rue.

He would die at dawn, and he'd be proud to.

 

Die for his homeland, and die for his name.

Die for a point, die soaked in blame.

He'd be killed like a traitor, but he'd die like a king.

Head up high, proud, regal, only him knowing that he'd done the right thing.

 

It wouldn't be long now, only hours to wait,

Until streaks of orange painted the sky and he'd be marched through the gates.

 

He wouldn't struggle.

He wouldn't even try.

Only guilty men run.

And he definitely wouldn't cry.

 

 

Soon his blood would taint the perfect golden steps.

Would his mother's tears wash them away?

 

Soon he would be just a memory.

A memory of much darker days.

 

Perhaps one day they would find out.

And perhaps then he would be mourned.

When the found out Loki the Traitor was truly Loki the Bravest and most Loyal of them All.

 

For it's only so long before the paint on the mask begins to peel,

Before the facade shatters to reveal what's real.

Before lies melt away to reveal truth.

And before long, he's lost in the memories of his youth.

 

 / / / / /

 

Morning comes too soon, gentle hues of pink and orange in the sky.

He, Prince Loki, knows the end is nigh.

The stomp of boots, a squeal of the gates.

The clunk of the lock, the clink of the chains.

His heart picks up the pace, his breathing quickens.

It is truly the end then.

The plot only thickens.

 

He holds his head up high as the handcuffs go on.

Tries to hold onto his dignity as they march him along.

He's literally muzzled as the accusations rain down.

He can’t even defend himself as they throw him to the ground…

 

 

/ / / / /

 

Tick

He rises

tock,

On unsteady feet

tick

His breath catches

tock,

The brothers’ eyes meet

 

a silent whisper

a scream

a plea

Loki ignores him.

Today, he will not flee.

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

Tick

 

Tock

 

The Prince walks up to the chopping block.

 

/ / / / /

 

His head screams to run,

his heart decides to stay.

Oh how he's dreaded this day.

The birds will sing, the sun will rise.

Nothing will change, he will never have his reprise.

 

But he stares out across peach-painted sky,

he hears the rhythm of the boots,

his mother's wounded cry.

 

He can't help but sigh at the ironic truth;

His so-called friends, his sworn protectors had betrayed him in their ruth.

They’d acted to protect Thor,

Sure,

But did it never occur to them that that was what he’d been doing too?

And now they accused him of betraying them, when he did everything to try and save them, the fools.

 

The worst part is, if they hadn't betrayed him, perhaps things would’ve worked out for the better. Maybe even perfectly.

At least Thor wouldn’t be watching him die so brutally.

 

/ / / / /

 

So amongst the chatter he whispers to himself, sings the tune in his head.

Of the Brother who only wanted to be King, and the Other who only wanted to be Accepted.

Of how the tables turned, and the first brother fought against his legacy.

Of how the second was corrupted by jealously.

Of how the Would-Be-King became the Midgardian and how the Prince became the Traitor.

Of how nothing is truly as it seems...

Of how the King is a Liar, the Mother a Warrior, the Thunder bearing a Ring.

Of how the Traitor was merely a Protector with no options left.

 

Tick

So as he walks

 

Tock

to the chopping block,

 

Tick

with his head held high,

 

Tock

and the sky shifting

 

Tick

between day and night...

 

 

_“Will he remember me?”_

 

 

Tock

As he walks to the chopping block

 

Tick

and the birds refuse to sing,

 

Tock

watching from the branches

 

Tock

of trees scraping the starry sky.

 

 

_“Will anyone?”_

 

 

Tick

As he walks to the chopping block,

 

Tock

the sky a gentle palette of pastels,

 

Tick

and the air crisp and cold...

 

He breathes.

_“For Thor.”_

 

And he places his foot on the first sunlight-carved step.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

As he watches his breath float away, ascends the glinting golden blocks..

As he turns and pretends not to see the hidden tears glistening in the corners of Their eyes.

 

As he hears the crack in his brother's voice as he tries one last time to speak, as he hears the huskiness of a voice strained from shouting...

 

As his ‘father’ speaks and twists his actions with a voice like molten copper, and the Traitor hears the accusations rain down...

His ears twitch as the gentle strum of the copper-strung lutes finally go silent.

The hush falls too quickly.

The whole world is holding its breath and the silence is deafening.

_“Breathe.”_

 

He kneels. It’s a mocking reminder of the foul words that had once dripped from his lips as he executed his master plan-

_“Heh. Executed.”_

His mouth twists in a wry grin, eyes glinting at the poor choice of words.

What an amusing time for his silver tongue to go rogue.

 

He bends at the waist.

The stone is rough beneath his chin.

 

He looks up and catches Odin’s steely gaze, holding it with all the fury and fire he can muster.

The All-Father looks away first and Loki isn’t sure whether to grin in satisfaction or growl from frustration. The god is dying and the least his killer can do is look him in the eyes.

Another is wielding the axe, sure, but Odin is the one giving the order.

 

The prince’s lungs burn with things left unspoken.

His broken, jagged words are trapped under layers of steel, seidr, and slander, however, so he remains silent.

 

_“Such a beautiful morning to die.”_

He traces the swirling tunes engrave into the floor with his eyes.

He hums the three final notes of the song he composed for his brother's sixteenth birthday...

And for one brilliant moment, he considers what could’ve been.

 

Gently, he closes his eyes.

He ignores their cries.

And with grace, he dies.


End file.
